1994-07-03: Old Friends

Participants:

William_icon.gif Brandon_icon.gif

Scene Title Old Friends
Synopsis William and Brandon meet up in the DMLE and poke jokes at each other.
Date Jul 03 1994
Watch For Flying memos!
Chronology NA
Logger Brandon

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Along the second level are more individual offices and structured bullpens for those not high up enough to warrant their own private office. Along the bullpen, there are cubicles where employees have decorated their space with photos of family, friends, others have dedicated wallspace to the subjects they've been assigned to track.


There are memos flying around the office and people running reports to others. It's a busy day at the Ministry's Department for Magical Law Enforcement since yesterday's Death Eater attack in Diagon Alley. There's enough interest peaked by enough people, that it even brought William Millingstone up from the Department of Mysteries to 'chat' with one of his colleagues about this mystery of a different sort. "What I don't get is, why now? They haven't been active since shortly after his fall." William shakes his head in curious wonderment.

"Bloody…." comes an exclamation from the doorway, as the tall man walks in. More than likely he's known within the department, even though it's not his own. Brandon ducks the memo that was flying for his head. "Can you not think of any reason?" he grins, heading over towards where William is located, a stack of papers in his hand.

William raises an eyebrow and grins at Brandon. "Well, I suppose I could think of one or two, O'Conner. But if I recall, it's not quite my job to come up with excuses, is it?" He jests. "Though I once pretending like I knew what those bloody 'Death Eaters' were doing." He smirks. "I suppose you could say they really just wanted to have some fun, wouldn't you? But then…did I hear there was actually something else they were after?"

Setting the stack of papers down on the desk, Brandon cracks a wry smile. "You're right. Leave the memory charms to professionals." he jokes right back, propping himself up on said desk with a hand. "It's amazing that you all in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement don't know what was being moved to Gringotts. The item the Death Eaters thought to be after. I would have thought better of your people, Millington." The last is said with the grin getting larger.

William grins. "Oh? Of course! Why do you think all of you get the dirty work, anyway? We don't want to let our pretty little wands get harmed with a back firing obliviating charm. Only the hard core stuff can break the wands that we carry around." He chuckles, jesting some more. "And I'm surprised, O'Conner. I would've thought that you'd've noticed I'm not an Auror any longer. Haven't been in ages. Down on level nine now. Department of Mysteries. Have been in…for a couple of decades now, I suppose. But I guess some memos take longer to reach their intended targets than others, eh?"

"So they do make wands as stubborn as you?" Brandon grins, returning the jest just as equally. His green eyes sparkle with amusement. "And I noticed. Figured maybe you changed your mind again and came back up here again." Yeah, the joking wasn't done. "Besides, we down in Magical Accidents have had our hands full. Seems some bloke in the northern countryside tried to transfigure his house into something more lavish. Wound up blowing a small crater and exposing himself to muggles nearby. Nasty mess. Spent a week cleaning it up."

William laughs. "Don't think they haven't asked me to come back! Oh they have. Figure I was one of the best Aurors they had. Along with Mad-Eye. Though not quite as mad." He smirks. "You mean it took a whole week to clean up and fix a simple explosion in a muggle area? So the rumours are true…it really has become lax in Magical Accidents. Back when I was an Auror, it would take more than three, maybe four, days tops!" He grins with a wink.

Brandon slides some of the papers to the side of the desk so he can park his tall frame on the corner of it. His robes get slide out of the way, so as not to get snagged on the desk. "You try rounding up six muggles who apparently are well versed in survival techniques and didn't want to be found." he says, rolling his green eyes upwards. "Accidental Magic Reversal had things sorted appearance-wise in a few days. But I had to hunt those muggles down. Right pain in the arse too." He shakes his head before glancing around and back to William. "Looks like they needed your help for sure. The attack really got things going didn't it?"

William nods a little, shrugging. "Those Muggles are tricky, but if you've got a creature good at hunting things down, and you get them to whiff a scent of the muggle, it might cut time off your journey." He says, hopefully helpfully. "If I didn't have my hands full down on level nine, I'd've been there to help, sure as anything." He smiles, before nodding seriously at the mention of Diagon Alley. "Yeah. Though the Ministry didn't hear about it until after the fact, did they? I don't think I would have been a help either way."

"From what I heard, it wouldn't have mattered." Brandon shakes his head, frowning. "One auror, and a former professor from Hogwarts handled it. And I eventually found the muggles. Seems they forgot that a fire creates smoke. After three days on the run they decided to cook a hot meal." His voice carries a hint of humor, as he pushes himself up from the desk. "Well, I should let you all get back to your work. Got a batch of new kids who seem to think they are better than me." he grins, shaking his head. "Good to see you again, Millington."

William shrugs and nods. "Well, somebody had to do something. Good to hear that there was someone there who actually knew what they were doing." He says quite seriously. He laughs, though. "Well, if you ever need help with any new people, send them right down to me in the Department of Mysteries. I'll set them right as rain." He grins. "Good talking to ya." He nods and then makes his way off to the lift. He should really get back to work anyway.

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